Call Me Sir
by queenofawesome3199
Summary: Sixteen year old Arthur Kirkland is in a family struggling to survive. When a passerby comes with a mysterious job offer, he is hardly reluctant to leave. Soon, however, he learns that a life of knighthood may not be as easy and adventurous as it seems. Rated T for potential violence and character death. No pairings as of yet, but don't worry, they'll come.


The wind was strong and westward on the day the man rode into town. His presence went unnoticed as he made his way down the streets of the bustling city. Newcomers were common here in the small merchant town, and were welcomed with open arms. The city was always happy to provide more business to those who came riding through. As he went along, owners of shops called out noisily, hoping to grab the attention of their customers. Children ran through the cobblestone streets, their squealing laughter echoing off of the walls of the buildings that lined the road.

The man stopped, his stern grey eyes scanning the shops and stalls. An elderly woman was calling out to the people, losing her breath and coughing quite frequently. Passersby would shake their heads at her offers and continue walking, not wanting to become infected with the illness. His attention was drawn to the awful noise and he began to move his horse along the street towards her stall of vegetables. As he rode, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the stalks of celery that sat at the end of the counter had begun to twitch. Wrapped around it was a rather small, slightly dirty hand.

The woman turned and screamed, her shout soon turning into a violent coughing. A boy stood up, grabbing another stalk and a few carrots, throwing them quickly into the leather messenger bag at his side and taking the woman's pause as a chance to make a run for it. Before he had the chance to run, the woman had grabbed him, the grip of her feeble looking hand surprisingly strong on the fabric of the boy's shirt. "Thief!" she shouted loudly, making heads turn towards her. "This boy's a thief!"

Hoofsteps were heard running up to the stall. The man came to a halt, the horse pulling back sharply and causing him to whip slightly backwards. He dismounted the horse and leapt to the stone below, eyeing the scene. The woman looked at him with scrutiny. "You don't look like one of the authorities to me, sir," she spat. "But d'you think you can take this little brat away?" She jerked her head towards the boy, who was still struggling to get out of her vice like grip, tearing at his shirt and tugging at her arm.

He looked up at the man with forest colored eyes, filled with defiance and fear. "Don't do it, sir!" he said quickly. "I have to get these back home to mum or we've got nothing tonight! Please, you have to let me go!"

"There's no need for yelling," the man said calmly. He looked back to the woman, who's mouth was turned down in a bitter pout. "I'll take him off of your hands for you, ma'am. I'll pay for the food."

"But he's been comin' here every day tryin' to take my food! I haven't been able to catch him until now. You have to get the police, not put him up on your high horse and take him back to his mummy!"

"I will pay you double for the food and make sure he never comes back," he said, staring at her with a deep intensity. He could see the boy freeze with fright as she thought for a moment.

"Thank y'very much, then," she muttered, letting the boy go and allowing the man to grab him from her. "I was getting tired of having to touch that rat."

"I'm not a rat!" the boy shouted back, but a firm hand on his shoulder told him to stop. He turned and looked at the man, who was giving him a mysterious smirk. He tossed the woman six shillings without dropping his gaze from the boy.

"We'll be off, then," he stated, helping the boy up onto his horse. He kicked its sides lightly and it took off, thundering down the road. The boy clutched onto the man, not wanting to fall from the horse's back onto the hard stone ground.

"Where do you live, boy?" the man shouted over the galloping.

"Right around this corner here and out towards the field," he shouted in return, staring with anxiety at the ground moving below him. The man let out a shout and the horse veered to the left, nearly throwing the boy off to the side of the street. After he regained his balance he saw the small cottage ahead, a trail of smoke rising from the chimney. The wind in his hair ceased, and the horse stopped in front of the home.

"What's your name, child?" the man asked as the boy came down from the horse unsteadily. He fell and landed on his back.

"Arthur," he replied breathlessly after having had the wind knocked out of him, looking up at the man from his position on the ground. "Arthur Kirkland."

"Well, Arthur," the man said with a chuckle, "let me just help you up there and we'll go discuss a few things with your parents, why don't we?"

Arthur nodded and grabbed the man's hand. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, and firm. It reminded him of his father's hand. After being lifted from the ground he strode up to his house, entering in through the wooden door. The sounds of laughter could be heard from inside, as well as the pitiful crying of an infant.

"I'm home!" Arthur announced as the door creaked open. The room was full of people, children running, parents talking, grandparents sitting with eyes closed next to the fire.

"Artie, honey," his mother exclaimed, wrapping him up in a hug. "What did you bring us, darling?"

"Got anything good this time?" a boy with flaming red hair complained, a sly smile on his face. Arthur glared at him from within his mother's embrace.

"I got some carrots and some celery," he said. "It wasn't much. He picked me up before I was able to get anything more."

His mother looked over at the man walking through the door and smiled. "Well, hello there!" she greeted, walking over to him quickly to shake his hand. "Nice meeting you, I'm Ms. Kirkland. Thank you so much for bringing Arthur back, sir. I worry about him sometimes, you know."

"I can understand that. Picking food from out from other people's noses is a very dangerous pastime." His voice was still warm and joking, but Ms. Kirkland took a step back anyway.

"We're doing what we can to live," she said, looking over at the food Arthur had just set on the table. "This is our ration for the week, mind you. Not some daily raid on the town."

The man walked over and picked up one of the stalks of celery. He began twirling it around his fingers aimlessly, in thought. "That still doesn't make it proper," he said, looking over at two children, still older than Arthur, fighting in the corner.

Ms. Kirkland stomped over to him and took the food out of his hand, putting it back on the table where it was then throwing her hands on her hips. "And who exactly are you to judge what we do in the house?" she questioned. "You must know what it's like, living with nothing."

"That was mine!"

"No, I was using it first!"

"Dylan! Alana! Quit your bickering and play nice!" Ms. Kirkland narrowed her eyes at the two children as she scolded, her red hair seeming to glow with anger itself as the fireplace reflected light from it, and they quickly grew silent. She sighed loudly then turned back to the man. "Now as I was saying. You've got no right to come into our house and be judging us. We're not the richest of people, as you can see."

"And neither am I," he said. "But I've come here with an offer."

Arthur looked up from examining his fingers at this and listened in silently. If this was about him, he needed to know.

His mother looked at him, then back at the man. "What sort of offer would you be talking about?" she said in a harsh whisper.

"Pretty nice payment in return for labor."

She scoffed. "And what sort of offer is that? Anyone could say they were going to make me work and pay me. What's the job?"

The man turned his head and locked his soft grey eyes with Arthur's. "Your son has a destiny to fulfill for himself. And luckily, it pays well."

"A destiny?" Ms. Kirkland laughed. "What sort of 'destiny' do we have? Things haven't been the same since Henry died, and they aren't going to be."

Arthur looked into the man's eyes, searching for any sort of emotion. They were warm and inviting, as his father's had once been. "Mum…" he muttered quietly.

"What, Art?"

"I think you should trust him," he said, removing his gaze from the man's and sitting down in a chair next to the table.

She sat for a moment, her eyes fixed on his. "Fine then. What does he need to fulfill this 'destiny' or whatever it is?"

"He already has the fire. I could see it in his eyes. They're much like your own, miss. Full of life and color."

She turned red at this and looked down. "Okay, what else?"

"Can he use a sword?"

"I've been practicing in the barn early in the mornings before I go out looking for food. I think I'm okay, but I don't know for sure." He looked at his mother's startled expression. "Sorry I didn't tell you before," he admitted.

"Well, you'd better be," his mother replied with a nod. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

"Thirdly," the man said, looking out the front door and at the empty street outside. "Thirdly he must be willing to die at any time."

A loud laugh resonated from where the eldest boy was sitting. "He should be fine with that, he's pathetic enough as it is," he hooted. Arthur felt himself grow red with shame.

"Quiet, Allistor!" his mother said, dumbfounded. "Look how silly you sound!"

"It's true though," Dylan said, folding his arms. "All he's really good for is being a pickpocket. Really. He's sixteen years old and still hasn't found someone to wed."

"But that's because I'm different-" he started to argue.

"Yeah, that's the whole problem," Alana snorted. Arthur put his head in his hands as their discussion continued, covering his reddening face.

"Kids!" Ms. Kirkland shouted, but they continued to taunt. She shook her head and went over to Arthur quickly, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door. The man followed as the other children jeered.

As the door closed behind them Ms. Kirkland let out a little groan. "No matter how much I try to control them, this always happens," she vented. "I'm very sorry for their rude behavior."

"No need to apologise to me," the man said. "If you want to apologise to anyone, talk to your son." Arthur's face had turned bitter as he was once again drawn into the conversation.

"I'm willing to go," he said to the man, taking a step forward.

Ms. Kirkland drew back in surprise. "But after all they just said-"

"It only makes me more willing. When do we leave?"

"Arthur…" Ms. Kirkland grabbed hold of his hand again. "Think this through sweetheart. We need you here with us."

"Have Allistor do the stealing and see how he likes it," he replied curtly. "I'll give half of the money I earn to the family. If I live you'll be proud. If I die there won't be much surprise."

The man smiled humorously at Ms. Kirkland, who stood there openmouthed. "I think he's made up his mind, miss," he said with a chuckle. "Go get your belongings and come back to me when you're ready. You'll need enough for a two day trip." Arthur nodded and ran into the house.

Ms. Kirkland drew in a long breath. "What on earth do you think you're doing, coming in here and taking my son from me," she muttered.

"I'm not. He didn't choose either. Fate chose his destiny." He looked at her kindly. "You're a brave woman, letting him go. I can tell you've experienced something like this before."

She frowned and looked at the house, a wistful expression settling on her face. "His father," she said sadly. "He looks just like his father." She smirked. "Except for the eyes. Everyone says his eyes are like mine."

The man nodded, looking at the boy who was coming out of the house again. His siblings could be heard inside, sounding confused. He wouldn't answer their questions as he walked off. "He'll be okay, ma'am, whatever happens," the man whispered as he drew nearer.

"Ready," Arthur announced, his brown messenger bag now full to the edge. A short sword hung at his side, silently threatening any foe who decided to come his way. His mother wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace, tears beginning to pour down her face.

"Honey. If I had woken up today and knew this would happen, I would have made you stay in bed," she whispered. "But if you're happy with the decision you've made, well, so am I." Arthur whispered a thank you then released her. "Don't worry, I'll make us some money before long," he laughed. "Tell everyone goodbye for me, okay? I'd rather not go back in there right now."

"Of course, sweetheart," she cooed. Arthur nodded as the man climbed up on his horse. He held out his hand for Arthur to hold as he mounted. Once he was settled, the horse sprang forward carrying them to the center of town. He was too surprised by the movement to look back.

Hooves came thundering through again and people scattered from the center of the street. The two came storming through, not bothering to stop to look around

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the man announced loudly as they passed. "Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to Sir Arthur Kirkland, Knight of the Round Table!"

"Wait, knight of the what-" But he was cut off by a large jolt from the horse gaining speed once more.

Maybe he had been a little too quick to leave.

* * *

**A/N: I am so sorry for what you just read, it was a product of movie soundtracks and sleepless nights. Hopefully I update again this week instead of leaving this here. **

**Thank for reading! ~ Queenofawesome**


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